


i spit in your face

by Ghostoshima



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Eventual Comfort, Forced Masturbation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Minor Zack Fair/Cloud Strife, Molestation, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Kissing, Sexual Abuse, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife Friendship, sephiroth is Not Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23973985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostoshima/pseuds/Ghostoshima
Summary: he wants nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.AKAcloud confronts his past abuser.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 40
Kudos: 217





	1. hero

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授翻】我唾弃你](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444682) by [sleepycotton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepycotton/pseuds/sleepycotton)



> not sure how many chapters this will have & if i'll be able to update frequently—i will try.  
>   
>  **a little disclaimer:** this work isn't meant to romanticize the relationship between cloud & sephiroth rather explore the result the sexual abuse inflicted on cloud, while i have no idea if i did it justice or not, this is not meant to be a love story.

He wanted nothing more than to be like the Great Sephiroth. Upon looking at himself in the mirror, a then fourteen-year-old Cloud stood with a straight spine—

_ I will be like the Great Sephiroth. _

His mother brought home newspapers, Cloud cut out clippings, pasted them into his journal, in this journal he wrote unsent letters to Tifa—promises both to her and himself. He was going to become a hero. In that promise, he told himself he’d send her each letter one by one, starting when he first got into Shinra. 

He didn’t make it into SOLDIER. Instead, he became some nameless Shinra guard in a sea of others. It sucked but he still had hope that one day he could make it, to be just like his hero.

_ And Zack too.  _

Cloud still had those letters stowed away in the journal he brought with him along with the newspaper clippings of his childhood hero.

* * *

It’s nighttime, Cloud is slacking off at his dorm, sitting at his desk, pencil twirling between his index and middle finger. Despite his duty as a guard, he still made time to keep up with his studies, even if it did bore him. 

Daydreams of SOLDIER slips into his mind—Cloud with a sword, fighting alongside Sephiroth, launching himself into the air, slicing open monsters like butter. His chin resting upon his palm, staring into nothingness with a starry gaze, he sighs, eyes closed, fingers tapping against his desk. Shit, his mentors are really going to have his ass for not having this report done. 

_ He didn’t need to study… he has SOLDIER. He’s not SOLDIER yet but… just a little more, just a little more.  _

His pencil drops, hand curling to form a tight fist, fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. He told himself he wouldn’t get emotional over this, he couldn’t cry over this. Not again. It is his dream and he’ll see it through—eventually. Another sigh passes his lips, this time shaky. The back of his hand clears away small tears as they form at the edge of his eyes. 

This is stupid. He’s not a little kid anymore!

But he still shrunk up like one. 

Just as he was about to shut his book, finishing up his studying for one day, he hears a firm, solid knock on his door, startling him enough to drop his books to the floor. 

Shit. 

He scrambles to pick them up and put them back at his desk when he hears the knock again, this time more clearly. 

“Coming!” Cloud bolts up, making his way toward the door.

His breath is taken from him when he looks up at green-blue eyes, a face framed by the bangs of silver hair, the cool exterior of his childhood hero catches him by surprise. He stands there, much to his shock—Sephiroth, in the flesh, looking down at Cloud with a small albeit pleasant smile on his face. 

“Sephi—sir!” Cloud swallows, tongue-tied, he didn’t know whether to bow, salute, or continue standing there. 

_ Why? Why is he here?  _

His brain is too busy racking any reasoning he forgets to invite Sephiroth in, who invites himself in anyway, Cloud steps back as Sephiroth saunter in. “Shit—I mean, I’m sorry, sir, I uh…”

“You don’t have to try so hard,” Sephiroth says, his back to him. 

“Right, er… what are you doing here?”

_ Was that too rude to ask?  _

“Just came to check up on you.” Sephiroth’s eyes meet his own, Cloud rapidly blinks, feeling his hands clam up, gulping once more. His eyes quickly avert, looking down at his own feet. 

“ _ Check up on me? _ Uh… what for? I mean, not that I mind! I just… I don’t understand.”

_ What’s so special about me?  _

Cloud’s heart thumps against his chest, butterflies flutter in his stomach; this excites him. To think the Great Sephiroth actually took notice of him out of all the other men, including SOLDIER. No, he couldn’t be  _ that  _ great, not even compared to SOLDIER. There’s Zack, who he knows has worked alongside Sephiroth personally.

So why wasn’t he checking up on him instead? 

It kind of feels nice to be in the limelight for a change, as much as he loves Zack. Even if it’s just Sephiroth who noticed him. But that  _ is  _ everything to him, nothing else in the world could match up to this very moment and he feels like he is going to hurl. 

He takes a deep breath to clear his head but the jitters practically leave him vibrating. 

Sephiroth laughs a burst of casual laughter, it actually surprises Cloud, especially with how natural it came from him. As if they are friends. Cloud… didn’t know how to feel about that. His hero thinks of him as a friend, should he be flattered? Cloud likes to think he should be. 

“I check on everyone as much as I can,” Sephiroth says, his gaze falling back to the books on Cloud’s desk. “ _ Loveless _ .”

Cloud nods firmly toward his direction. “I’m supposed to be writing a book report on it… It’s kind of boring.” 

“It’s my favorite play.”

“O-oh…” The tip of Cloud’s ears grow numb, his hand rubs the back of his head, hands running through blond locks; he clears his throat. “I mean, it’s not  _ that _ bad…”

_ Great job, idiot, you called his favorite book boring.  _

Sephiroth laughs—there it is again, that easy-going laughter that seems so… alien to Cloud, yet it is like honey to the ears, a cup of tea in the afternoon, and that sinks a feeling of warmth to the pit of his stomach; Cloud sighs wistfully. 

“It’s okay,” Sephiroth says. “Do you need any help with your report?” He reaches for the book, his hand bumps against the others, once again sending them launching down the floor, amongst them had been the journal, now spread out with the newspaper clippings and letters out in the open; Cloud’s heart leaps from his chest. 

“Wait, don’t look at that!”

Gloved fingers scoop the journal off the floor, his green-blue eyes linger on the pages for a while, he chuckles to himself before he turns back to Cloud. 

“Such an admirer, aren’t you?” 

The heat from Cloud’s face expands from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, his jaw drops, he can’t muster up the words so he stands there with nothing coming out of his mouth but stutters. 

“Relax,” Sephiroth says so cooly, carefully closing the journal shut, placing it upon the desk. It is all he says for a while and that worries Cloud, just as he is about to fill in the awkward silence with whatever he could muster, Sephiroth speaks again.

“It’s flattering.”

“O-oh…” 

“Who is Tifa?”

“Hm…?” His eyes blink, he is a deer caught in the headlights before he remembers the name presented in the letters. “O-oh those!”

_ Of course, where else could they have come from?  _

“Tifa’s my friend, she, uh…”

It didn’t feel right to say she is waiting for him back home, he didn’t know that, though a small part of him hopes—practically  _ prays  _ that Tifa’s waiting for him. Was it foolish to want such a thing? He still hadn’t sent the damn letters.

_ But why lie to her?  _

“She’s my friend and I hope to go back home one day to see her, she’s probably doing better without me there. Heh.” It’s meant to be a joke but it came out so half-hearted, almost as if Cloud believed it to be true. And a small part of him did. Even if he didn’t want to admit to it. It hurt his throat to even think about it. “I mean, I hope she’s doing better, she really deserves it… Tifa’s a great girl, you’d like her…!” Cloud’s words trail off, he swallows thickly. No, even if Sephiroth spoke to him as if they were like old pals, Cloud has no permission to do the same to him. How foolish of him to think he can speak in such a way toward a man of amazing honor. 

“S-sorry…”

“What for?” 

“I…” Cloud nervously rubs his hands together, eyes downcast, he doesn’t notice how he trembles. Sephiroth’s gloved hands feel warm upon his own as he tightly grasps them, with a firm grip to the fingers, a wave of comfort washing over Cloud. It shocks him how natural it seems how Sephiroth touches him as if they truly  _ are  _ like old pals… no, not pals. This feels far more tender than that, the very thought almost has his heart leaping from his chest. 

This… can’t be right. 

“Sir?” Cloud says, his voice is small. 

Sephiroth says nothing, Cloud’s hand is slowly brought up to his face till his fingers touch Sephiroth’s lips, Cloud hisses at the electric touch, it burns him but it doesn’t hurt, it feels…  _ sickeningly sweet.  _ There is a small smooch that leaves shutters running across his body. Cloud closes his eyes, gulping the huge lump in his throat, his legs and arms like jelly. He feels lost, unsure of what he should  _ do  _ but he feels like he must do something, do anything, possibly demand him to  _ stop.  _

This couldn’t be happening. 

Sephiroth’s hand drops his, his hands gently slip down his arms, to his shoulders, grabbing them with force, Cloud feels Sephiroth’s lips mash against his—he muffles a gasp, whimpering, his heart hammers against his chest, threatening to jump right out of his ribcage, his lips trembling; tears bud the corners of his eyes. 

Cloud hadn’t the strength to push him back, he isn’t even sure he  _ should  _ push him back but to let Sephiroth continue spells nothing but trouble. 

Eventually, he breaks the spell, he attempts to break out of Sephiroth’s grip but to no avail, only managing to break free from the kiss.

“L—let go of me.” 

“Cloud.” Sephiroth’s response is tenacious as is the grip to his shoulders, Cloud couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. “Cloud, do you love me?”

His breath hollow, he could hardly breathe, his knees quake.

“I  _ admire  _ you, sir.” 

Sephiroth smiles, a smile once underlining with sugar now devious. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I gotta return to my book report.” Cloud gestures toward his desk. “And it’s getting late.” 

Sephiroth nonchalantly laughs.

“I found my name all over your journal too.”

“Yes, I, uh…”

Cloud’s tongue feels heavy inside his mouth, there is a bitter taste; his lips still stung where Sephiroth kissed. It only happens again as Sephiroth leans down, pressing their lips together once more, this time with a rough tug on his bottom lip; Cloud whimpers yet again, he didn’t hesitate to pull his head back this time.

“Please don’t.”

“Tell me how you feel, Cloud.”

“I shouldn’t.” 

He could feel Sephiroth’s teeth press against him as he is kissed a third time, his tongue flicks out to lick Cloud’s lips, parting them enough to push it in his mouth; Cloud chokes. 

He doesn’t know if he should return the kiss, it’s happened three times now, he is caught in a trap. He doesn’t need to push Sephiroth away as he already parts away from him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says and Cloud could feel his face light up with a blush, his heart leaping to his throat. 

“... Sephiroth, I  _ can’t.”  _

Sephiroth shushes him, pressing his nose against Cloud’s, their eyes capturing each other. Cloud could see the longing in Sephiroth’s eyes but his stomach churns, his fingertips numb as they press against Sephiroth’s chest. 

“It’s okay, Cloud… Let me in.” 

With his breath escaping from him, Cloud falls into a black hole, allowing it to consume him; he doesn’t think anymore, he doesn’t _ understand anything  _ anymore. He tries it, just this once. 


	2. sleep paralysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: cloud is 21 in this chapter, i _won't_ be writing any explicit sexual content with him as a teenager in any other chapter.

The burn of alcohol warms his soul but it isn’t enough to drown out his demons—not yet, at least. Cloud sits at the Seventh Heaven bar, Tifa on the other side cooking away; it’s beef stew night. He swirls the content of his glass for a moment before he swallows it, the burn in his chest feels wonderful… and that is the only highlight of that evening. Lately, his dreams have been horrid, they crawled into his mind unexpectedly during his slumber. He could still feel  _ his _ breath on his skin. Cloud shudders, the grip to his glass tightens just enough that he wonders if he’ll break it accidentally, eventually he has no choice but to loosen that grip. 

“Something wrong, Cloud?” Tifa scoops him a bowl of stew, sliding it his way; Cloud doesn’t reach for it, his head low to the counter, he couldn’t even bear to bring himself to answer her question. 

How could he? How does he even begin to explain  _ everything  _ to her… 

It meant having to start from the beginning and he isn’t even sure he has the mentality to dig that deep into his brain yet. 

Cloud grumbles, eventually taking the bowl but he doesn’t eat, his spoon remains untouched; he couldn’t bring himself to look at Tifa but he knows she stands there, arms crossed, watching him closely. 

“Thanks…” He manages to get out, he finally shovels a mouthful of stew, it’s delicious as always, but he couldn’t quite appreciate it to its fullest. He avoids eye contact, he needs another drink.

“Tifa, look!” Marlene toddles up to the counter, presenting a drawing, it’s clear by the gun-arm and sunglasses drawn onto the figure that it is Barret. Cloud silently eyes her from the side as Tifa hands her dinner, Marlene shyly peers back at him with her little brows knitted together. 

“It’s okay, Marlene, Cloud’s not feeling well,” Tifa says. 

“What have I told you about scaring my daughter?” 

“Daddy!” Marlene pipes up. 

Barret’s loud voice booms throughout the bar, though he says this, his tone isn’t at all hostile, in fact, he seems interested to joke around with Cloud this time. There is even a pat on his back as Barret sits down to be handed a bowl of stew; Cloud says nothing. 

“Too good to pal around, ain’t ya?” Barret laughs. 

He seems in a good mood, Cloud wonders what made it so; at least  _ one  _ of them is in a good mood. Cloud can’t seem to bring himself out of his funk, everyone begins to notice. Even little Marlene seems skeptical to approach Cloud as she moves by Barret’s side to enjoy her dinner. He still remembers the feeling of Tifa’s eyes upon him. 

“‘m not hungry anymore.” Cloud mumbles, his spoon dropping into his bowl. “Can I just have another drink?” 

“Cloud, what’s up? You’ve been glum all evening.” Tifa says, concern painting her features. 

“Had a bad dream, that’s all.” 

“Really? Is that it?” Tifa takes a seat at the bar, she pours Cloud a glass of water, much to his chagrin, but he doesn’t deny it; he takes a careful sip. “You aren’t planning on drinking all night just to catch some sleep, are you?”

“Maybe.” 

At least, he is honest. A nice drink or a couple just to knock him on his ass so that he can finally rest in peace, hopefully, one without any nightmares. He would hate himself for the hangover he gets but at least he got to sleep, to begin with. He feels like shit, he barely slept a wink. 

“... Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Again, Cloud says nothing. 

* * *

The previous night, Sephiroth visited him. Cloud wondered if it was a delusion or if it was real. He knows that Sephiroth’s very appearance makes his blood run cold, he finds himself hyperventilating even at the very  _ thought  _ of him. 

In his apartment, he lays in sleep paralysis, staring right up into the ceiling, unable to move anything but his fingers—they grip his sheets so tight his knuckles turn white. 

“T-Tif…” He mutters, trying to call out to her, trying to desperately shake himself out of his trance but he couldn’t, his words are lost. Cloud squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that he’d return back to sleep, hoping to fall. 

He could feel Sephiroth’s breath. It’s on his neck.

“Cloud,” he whispers in his ear, he feels a brush of hot air.

He hisses.

“I know you can hear me.”

_ Get out!  _

Cloud has plenty to say— _ fuck off, don’t touch me. I fucking hate you. I’ll  _ **_kill_ ** _ you.  _

None which came out, whimpers and shutters are the only things that do. None of it is real, he reminds himself. All of it is in his head, it is nothing but a dream. 

_ He couldn’t hurt him anymore.  _

Sephiroth stole more than his hometown. 

“Cloud, it’s okay… let me in.”

“ _ Fuck. You.”  _ Cloud manages to say behind gritted teeth. 

“Don’t be like that.” 

A pair of lips touch his neck, they burn him, every kiss he used to give him  _ burned  _ him. It is no different here. 

“Let me help you.” Sephiroth’s hand grabbed Cloud’s, holding it up for him to see, Cloud couldn’t move it, not even an inch, he watches in horror as Sephiroth guides his hand down to touch his crotch; he struggles in place.

“No no no no no!”

The palm of his hand presses against his crotch, rubbing it with force—Cloud grunts in pain, his legs kicking. 

_ Enough!  _

He just wants to sleep. He wants to wake up, he wants to be greeted by Tifa’s shining face, to hop down at her bar before setting out to do his merc duties. He wants  _ peace.  _

“Cloud.” 

_ Leave me alone.  _

“Cloud!” 

He couldn’t see his face but he could feel their lips barely brush against one another, a gentle nibble on his lower lip; his teeth feel real enough. Sephiroth continues guiding his hand up & down his crotch, his fingers massaging it, the friction building up enough to cause a budding erection.

_ No more…  _

Sephiroth’s hand darts down his pants, fingers grasping the shaft; Cloud whimpers again, he struggles once more, trying to remove his hand. Sephiroth’s grip was too tight, he couldn’t get him to let go. He wanted to scream. 

_ I’ll do anything… anything but  _ **_that._ ** _ I’d even let you  _ **_kill_ ** _ me.  _

“Kill… me…”

Sephiroth laughs.

“That’s awfully dark of you, Cloud.”

He’s fully erect. 

“Please, don’t resist.” 

His breath is hollow as Sephiroth continued to work on his swollen cock, his shoulders giving a small shutter every now and then. Their lips are pressed together, Cloud tries to move his head out of the way, but he can’t. His kiss was too  _ disgustingly _ familiar. 

How many times has Sephiroth already kissed him? A dozen times, more than a dozen… it’s been so long yet it doesn’t feel that way. 

Cloud’s body jolts as Sephiroth jerks him faster, Cloud tries to kick, aiming for him but his leg wouldn’t budge any further. He can do nothing but lay there and take it. 

He just wants it to be over, to finish and get it over with so Sephiroth can leave him alone, but he stops suddenly.

“Beg,” Sephiroth orders.

_ Noooo..!! _

“Get  _ off! _ ” 

With every ounce of his strength, he manages to release Sephiroth’s grip, his foot swinging in the open air, a sob of relief breaks free from his mouth. He couldn’t find Sephiroth anymore. Sweat collects in his brow and he finds himself in the darkness of his room; he’s awake again but as he looks down on himself he realizes he is still erect. 

Cloud spent that night throwing up into his toilet, sprawled out on his bathroom floor, tears spilling from his eyes, choking on his sobs. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, he would rather die from the exhaustion than to relive that night ever again.

* * *

“Oh, there you are! Thank you, Cloud.”

In a basket, Tifa had arranged muffins and other treats for Marle, she assigned the job of delivery to Cloud as she was too busy cleaning up the bar. Cloud only nods in confirmation, he would actually say something but his bones ache, a headache threatens to bloom; he plans on popping in a couple of pills before going to bed early. Even if sleep is the last thing he wants that night, Cloud knows he couldn’t push it off any further. Eventually, he would be knocked on his ass. 

“Give Tifa my thanks,” Marle reaches for the basket, it’s plucked right from Cloud’s grasp, his fingers tremble slightly. “You alright? You’re looking kind of pale.” 

“Y-yeah…” He replies, rather meekly, his voice breathless, not quite noticing how small he truly sounds. “I just need some sleep.” 

“You should head on back to your room then.” The rest of Marle’s words come out in a muffle, clouded by the fogs of his mind, as she continues to speak, he stares off into the distance behind her, at the houses of the slums built on debris, at the civilians that live among them, roaming around; silver hair catches his glimpse, his nerves numb. The trembling in his fingers worsens, he is short in his breath, and his heart races; he sees him. 

“Cloud…? Cloud!” Marle calls out to him. 

“I gotta go.” He whirls around, practically bumping into her as he rushes back into his apartment, shutting the door behind him, locking it tight. 


	3. black feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tifa wonders what is going on cloud's head.

Tifa decided it was up to her to find out how Cloud was feeling. Through the thin walls, she heard him retching next door, the sound of it caught her off guard and it actually concerns her. 

“Cloud?” She knocks on his door, it is later that day and she has finally gotten up the courage to check up on him. “Cloud, are you in there?” She waits for a response but none come, she attempts to peer into his window but his blinds are pulled shut; she curses silently under her breath. Marle had mentioned he seemed like he was in a hurry to be back in his room but Tifa could only wonder why. Her hand grasps the doorknob, turning it, it opens with ease, to her surprise. Cloud left his door open—unusual. 

“Hey Cloud?”

Still, no response. 

Inside, she found nothing, no one, it is just his unmade bed, his sword, and his clothes scattered about, there’s a funny feeling in her stomach as Cloud is nowhere to be seen, not even in his bathroom. 

“Where did you go?” 

* * *

“Barret, have you seen Cloud?” 

“Nah, can’t say I have.”

“Okay, then he must be out on a job.” That  _ has  _ to be it, Tifa told herself, even if the funny feeling in her stomach wouldn’t leave her alone. 

“You don’t look so good, Tifa.”

“Sorry—I’m just worried about him, he hasn’t been acting like himself lately.” 

Besides the excessive drinking and the vomiting the prior night, she has also heard him sniffling next door as if he’s been crying, something she doesn’t see—or hear—him do quite often. Something obviously wasn’t right, but Tifa doesn’t even know if he’s willing to talk to her about it.

“I know, I’ll ask Marle.” 

“Hey,” Barret says. “Don’t go about it alone, okay? I’ll go with you, I’m worried about him too.”

“Thank you, Barret.” 

There is a warmth in her heart thanks to Barret, she appreciates him for being there for Cloud—and for her. Especially when desperation was right around the corner for her.

The two of them make their way outside, the daylight peeking through the plate above them, children run across the littered ground; everyone seems much more lively that day, the crowds are about. Tifa wonders if this would make it harder to locate Cloud, so far, none of the faces in the sea had been his. 

“Have you seen Cloud?” She asked around—a vendor—they shook their heads, she asked another, to no avail. None of the shop owners said he stopped by that day, a group of ladies mentions they saw him talking to the kids. Tifa scans the area, the group of children was at their usual spot, playing amongst each other and the cats. “I saw ‘im, he was hidin’ around the houses,” one of them says to her.

“Hiding?” Tifa’s brows knit together.

“Yeah! He looked like he didn’t wanna be seen, we tried to talk to ‘im but he said he needs to be alone. We thought he was playin’ hide n’ seek!”

“Thanks.” Tifa tips them five gil; she turns to Barret.

“What could that mean? It doesn’t seem like him.” 

“We’re better off askin’ him. Let’s go.” 

* * *

Cloud’s crouched down, face hidden, arm stretched out with his hand extended to a stray cat who meekly approaches him, sniffing at his hand. Slowly, oh so slowly, he scratches behind their ears, the cat mewing contentedly, rubbing their head against his palm. Cloud couldn’t bring himself to smile. The cat seems so peaceful, something that Cloud couldn’t achieve for himself. Cloud hates that, Cloud  _ hates _ Sephiroth.

A painful lump forms in his throat, the fingers of his other hand curl, he tastes bile in his throat but he’s already thrown up so much that morning. The nightmares won’t leave him alone, he rather not sleep at that point. 

In these dreams, memories play in his mind—Cloud, a child, Cloud, a boy with hopes and dreams, Cloud, a naive youth who looked up at a man who stole everything from him.  _ Everything  _ from him. 

He wants to shout. 

The cat meows again, bumping their head against his hand; he continues petting them, a small gesture that helps him forget every horrible thing, at least for a little while.

Cloud could hardly decipher reality from dream but he could swear he feels a presence behind his back.

_ No, not again.  _

He couldn’t bear it, not know, not while he’s enjoying a moment with an innocent cat. Instinctively, he scoops the cat into his arms, they make a confused meow but they purr against him. Cloud holds his breath, the presence is still there. 

“Don’t come near me,” he hisses, he presses the cat closer to his body. 

“Cloud, is that you?” 

“... Tifa!” 

He whirls around, his childhood friend, along with Barret, gingerly move toward him, Cloud’s grip to the cat loosens. 

“I thought you were…” Cloud shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, you weren’t at your apartment today, is everything okay?” Tifa asks. 

Cloud pauses, averting his gaze, his hands softly yet absentmindedly scratching behind the ears of the cat. There is a comfort in the vibration of their purring against his chest, it felt like he could get lost all over again, he wanted to forget, drown out his sorrows. He couldn’t tell Tifa about what was happening, he just couldn’t. There’s something dirty and shameful about what Sephiroth did to him. 

What he  _ does  _ to him. 

Even though he is no longer around. 

But that’s a thought that gnaws the back of his mind, one that refuses to leave him alone, especially when he sleeps: what if Sephiroth’s still around? 

His lips part but Cloud can’t bear to bring out a word about how he is feeling. He is  _ exhausted _ , instead of looking around for merc jobs as he usually does, he wants to crawl under his bedsheets and forget he exists. To think he has been driven to feel such a way is embarrassing. 

All of it is embarrassing. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Cloud…”

“It’s  _ nothing,  _ Tifa, I’ll be fine.” 

Cloud places the cat down, they rub against his legs, desiring more pets, Cloud feels bad he couldn’t pay more attention to it. He passes through, head down, unable to look Tifa or Barret in the eye, their stares burning his back. He feels grabbed with a gentle grasp, he doesn’t jump, he doesn’t turn away, he feels at ease… he almost thanks them for not being so forceful with him. 

“Come on, Cloud, we can go back to the bar together, we’ll have a drink—all of us. You just gotta let us help you,” Tifa says. 

It aches his heart to hear those words but there is a relief that washes over him and he is reminded in that moment he has friends who care deeply for him. Cloud turns around, Tifa’s hand still holding onto his arm as she watches on with a soft gaze. He moves his hand to grasp hers, his fingers wrapping around it tightly. 

“Alright.”

* * *

The day had fallen quickly, evening pokes through, the sun setting, the bar had become a little livelier then, Tifa tending to the customers all who heartily greeted Cloud with a pat to his back. The atmosphere doesn’t help his mood, the gloom still haunts him. Tifa said she would wait for the crowds to thin out before they could all have a drink together, Barret, meanwhile, has returned back to his daughter. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge are playing darts in the corner, laughing and drinking together.

Jessie breaks away from her group to plop herself into the seat right next to Cloud, a beer in her hand. 

“The rest of the gang wants to know if you’re up for a game of darts,” Jessie turns back to them, Wedge is on a roll with his dart throwing, Biggs cheers him on, taking a swig of his drink. “You’re sitting here all by yourself—come, have some fun with us!”

Cloud drums his fingers, he wants to wave her away, return back to his drink, fetch himself another or two, ponder on how he’s going to sleep that night without any interruptions—god, he misses sleep but they were hardly peaceful. This time they felt worse. Despite all of that, Cloud pushes back his glass, wheeling around in his seat. Wordlessly, he makes his way toward the dartboard.

“Oh hey, Cloud!” Wedge cheerfully says, handing him a couple of darts. “Join us!” 

He readies himself, holding the dart up, squinting his eyes to pinpoint the center of the target, he throws the dart but misses his mark. 

“Shit.” 

“Try again, Cloud!” Biggs pipes up with a drunken chortle. 

Cloud holds up another dart, steadying his hand better, he catches his breath, he hears Jessie from behind encouraging him. There is a tap on the window beside him. The dart veers off course, hitting a nearby bottle, causing it to topple down, the glass shattering upon the impact of the floor. The tap is there again, Cloud doesn’t release his breath as the glimpse of something black catches his peripheral vision. 

A black feather. 

As Cloud turns his head, he catches a black feather floating outside, as if greeting him the moment he spots it. It  _ calls _ to him. 

“Cloud?”

His name comes at a muffle, the noise around him becomes distorted, there is only one thing that catches his attention, the feather dances, mocking him. His boots pummel the floor as he rushes outside, hand to the sword strapped on his back, drawing it, but there is nothing there. The feather vanished. 

“ _ Shit! _ ” He exclaims, sword still drawn, bystanders stopping at their tracks, startled by the volume of his voice. 

“Cloud!” Tifa steps outside, immediately coming to his side, hands pressing against his back. “Hey, Cloud—take it easy!”

“It’s him, Tifa, it’s  _ him… _ ” His hand reaches his forehead, feeling another headache coming in, his shoulders shake. “It’s him, he won’t leave me alone, he…”

Tifa shushes him gently, her hand carefully cupping his, helping him bring his sword down. 

“It’s alright, Cloud, don’t stress yourself out… let’s get you home, okay?”

The tension in his muscles loosen, the headache breaks out, leaving his head pounding. Cloud groans. 

“You don’t understand, Tifa,” he mutters. “He won’t leave me alone. He’ll never leave me alone.” 


	4. dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> but what does love feel like?

“Hey, Cloud, what’s up?” Zack waves him down, a grin on his face, in his hand a cup of juice, which he hands to Cloud. He slowly takes it with meek hands. “You haven’t touched your dinner.” 

Cloud shrugs, his fork poking at the food on his tray, taking a sip of the juice. His appetite isn’t there, neither is his mind. Zack, as always, is in good spirits, taking his seat next to Cloud, a guard greets him from across the room, Zack beams, greeting them back. He has always been a popular one.

Cloud’s head is lost in a haze, muffled, full of cotton; he feels especially restless that day, with his fingers drumming against the table, Zack speaks to him about his day, something or other about the number of squats he had done that morning, he seems especially boastful about his accomplishments that day. 

“Hey Cloud, you listening?”

“Huh?” He blinks, being brought back into reality. “Oh, yeah, uh… I fucked up at practice today.” 

“Ah shit, Cloud, don’t sweat it, I know you can do it—hang in there, alright?” Zack pats him on the back. “D’you wanna talk about it?” 

Cloud twirls his fork, gnawing on his lower lip. 

“It’s no big deal,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But it does seem like it’s bothering you.”

“It’s…”  _ It’s not that. _

The events of that night played over and over again in his mind, it’s what keeps him up at night, it’s what he dreams about every night, his heart thumping each time. So many people would  _ kill _ to be in his shoes, having earned the affection of the Great Sephiroth, his lips still burn with the many kisses the man gave him. Cloud instinctively touched his lips, his face burning. He feels like he should be excited but he can’t quite convince himself to feel that way.

Still, when Sephiroth approaches other men, when he brushes shoulders with them, when every other guard gleefully cheers amongst themselves, Cloud can’t help but wonder if Sephiroth has visited them in their quarters as well. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

“Hey, Zack… has Sephiroth ever visited you in your dorm?” 

“Uh, not in my dorm, per se, but he has approached me a couple of times.”

“What has he done—er, what for?”

“To train or to talk—about our missions. Why are you askin’?” 

“Mm, he…” 

Cloud feels so much shame yet he still can’t stop thinking about the other men in his group who have made contact with Sephiroth; how it made him feel bitter. Why? Why why why?

“Nevermind, it’s not important.” 

“Ah, I know you look up to him, it’s natural to want his attention.”

Yes, his attention, Sephiroth’s attention felt nice—right? That’s what he keeps telling himself yet he also wants to throw up. His affection is so warm yet so disgusting. His lips twist, his leg fidgets under the table. What is he to do? Cloud wanted his attention  _ all his life.  _ Now he has it. He should be lucky. Is he? 

“Maybe once you make it into SOLDIER, all three of us can train together,” says Zack. 

Cloud gulps. 

“Y-yeah…” 

To be at close proximity for them to touch each other again. 

_ C’mon, Cloud, you’re the envy of every other guard. _

So why? Why didn’t he feel grateful? 

Later that night, Sephiroth visits him again, he saved no time pushing himself into Cloud’s room, hands on his shoulders, lips pressed against his. Sephiroth tastes desperate, almost human, and it unnerves Cloud, to think Sephiroth has very human emotions that almost destroys the image he produced for his hero. Sephiroth feels  _ human  _ when he is around him.

_ Cloud, you’re so lucky…! _

That’s what keeps playing in Cloud’s mind, as he tries so hard, so very hard, to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“It’s okay, Cloud, it’s okay… let me in,” Sephiroth says, once again. 

And so Cloud does. 

* * *

He holds a cup of chamomile tea, Tifa says it should help with his upset stomach and his nerves, she made it especially for him. He is seated upon her bed as she sits upon her writing chair in the opposite direction, facing him, hands firm on her lap, her foot gently taps on the floor. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, a bit.” 

Cloud didn’t really care for tea but the warmth of the cup feels nice. 

“Thanks for your help… I should get back to my place.”

“Cloud—what were you talking about? Back at the bar?”

His cup remains untouched, his head bowed down, with quivers throughout his body leaving his shoulder trembling. His reflection looks back at him underneath the ripples of his tea, black shadows underlined his eyes. It all brought up the question of just how much sleeping he truly  _ was  _ getting. 

“You should drink your tea,” Tifa says. “It’s getting cold.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about what happened.” Cloud’s words slurring together. 

“ _ Cloud,  _ I’m your friend, I want to help you but first you gotta  _ talk to me. _ ”

He expected the sternness of her tone eventually, he knows he can’t run away from it forever, as much as he wanted to continue. Cloud takes a careful sip of tea and his trembling subdues; he hadn’t even realized just how much he shook till that moment. 

“I… I keep having dreams about Sephiroth. They keep me up at night. That’s what’s happening.”

“And about what happened at the bar? You ran out so suddenly.”

“I saw him—I  _ know  _ I saw him—it was a feather, it’s connected to him, I swear.” 

Tifa seems puzzled, Cloud could tell by the look on her face, and he wonders if she actually believes him or not. 

“A feather. Are you sure it’s even connected to Sephiroth? It probably has nothing to do with him. The nightmares are getting to you.” 

“I know what I saw, Tifa, I  _ know  _ all of it is connected. You don’t have to believe me but I know what is happening.” But did he? “I—I think? I…” Cloud groans, an exhale of frustration passes his nostrils, his teeth gritted, his hand squeezes into a fist, another headache threatens to bloom. He is  _ tired.  _

“He’s here, I know it, he’s  _ here… _ ” Cloud sounds small and pathetic, it makes him  _ feel  _ pathetic but to his surprise, Tifa takes his free hand, her fingers warm, she squeezes it tightly, secured in her grasp. 

“You’re not alone, Cloud, you’ll fight this.” She smiles at him, her ruby eyes glint beautifully.

Whether she means the nightmares or Sephiroth, he doesn’t know, but she is honey on his nerves. Unlike the poison that was force-fed to him by Sephiroth all those years ago, Cloud can honestly say Tifa’s affection is exactly what he needs in his time of hopelessness. 

* * *

“Check up on Marco, will you?” 

Tifa waves goodbye as Cloud exits her apartment, it’s midnight at that point, the streets quiet as most have gone back inside to rest. It’s almost eerie, the silence of the slums, he had hoped for a little distraction in the noise. Maybe it’ll rain and the sounds will calm the commotion in his head. 

“I forgot to check up on him tonight,” she says.

“‘Course not, you were busy hauling my ass back here.”

It’s a joke, a small one, and it makes Tifa smile. 

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. Goodnight, Cloud.”

Cloud nods her way. 

Her door shuts, Cloud makes his way toward Marco’s apartment. He didn’t like approaching the man, something about his appearance left him feeling off, but he’s doing it for Tifa. His knuckles rap against the door, he hears no response, but he isn’t surprised about that one bit. Cloud wonders if he should just open the door and intrude but he’s smart enough to know that’s a bad idea. Maybe he should just leave. 

Cloud turns his back to the door, yawning, deciding to head back to his place, after all. Marco hardly leaves his place anyway, surely he must just be sleeping. The door behind him swings so suddenly, Cloud is sent tumbling down by a force. Marco is above him, groaning, hands around his throat but he does not choke him, Cloud immediately grabs his wrists, attempting to yank him off. 

“C...loud?” Marco rasps.

“Get off!”

Marco leans in close, nose brushing against Cloud’s; Cloud instantly holds his breath, gulping. He didn’t like the feeling of this, his gut screams at him. 

“Please get off,” he sounds so delicate. 

“Cloud. Cloud… Cloud.” Marco’s tone is hushed, his breath on Cloud’s lips, his grip strong despite how feeble his limbs looked. “Look at me.”

He didn’t see Marco, not in those eyes, tucked away behind a black cloak, they were green, as green as the familiar gaze of exactly who he expected to see; there are strands of silver hair poking out the hood. 

“No! You’re Marco, you’re not  _ him! _ ” With every ounce of his strength Cloud finally pushes him off, struggling to climb back on his feet, having to hold onto the rail to regain his balance. “Don’t fucking come near me.” 

“Re...union.” Marco seems innocent then, returning back to his old self, his limbs shaking as he attempts to get back up himself. “Reunion. Cloud… reunion.” 

“What?”

“We’ll… meet again.” 

The feeling in his gut told him the person before him was no longer Marco, but rather, someone who spoke  _ through  _ Marco. The silver hair pops into his mind again. 

“No, I can’t do this… I refuse…” 

Cloud feels so  _ weak.  _

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!”

But he knows it won’t be that easy, Sephiroth hadn’t left him alone all those years before, he won’t leave him alone now. Cloud wants to run away, Cloud would find it  _ easier  _ to run away, but he knows better. He knows he’s eventually going to have to fight Sephiroth. 

* * *

“Sephiroth.” 

Sephiroth finished dressing, he made his way toward the doorway, ready to leave; he didn’t bother to look back at Cloud, in fact, he seems to avoid it, he seems  _ aloof.  _ Cloud actually felt insecure. 

Didn’t he try hard enough? Was Sephiroth not satisfied? There is a sinking feeling in his chest. 

“Sephiroth, I have something to ask you.”

“I should head back to my room.” 

“Wait, please…”

Cloud reaches for Sephiroth’s wrist to stop him but Sephiroth harshly yanks his hand away, Cloud flinches. 

Shit, he’s pissed him off. But why? What did he do? What happened to the affection he felt just an hour earlier? 

Nothing made sense anymore. Cloud felt like he made even less sense. He allows this to happen and the disgusting, shameful feeling returns. The truth? He hid the truth from himself. He should be flattered, after all. Many wanted to be in his place.

Yet even now, Sephiroth refuses to look at him. 

“What is it?” Sephiroth says, cooly. 

“I just want to know… do you visit anyone else late at night?”

The glare on Sephiroth’s face turned his blood ice cold, the silence that fell before him had him holding his breath, he felt his eyes on his skin, burning him like a knife cutting into him; Cloud clears his throat, the uncomfortable feeling within him only grows. 

“I  _ only  _ have eyes for you.”

“Yeah, but… the way they look at you, it’s like… they’re in love with you or something.” 

Sephiroth’s laughter rings in the air, Cloud is taken aback by how sudden it is, it shakes him. 

“And what if they are?”

“... Nothing, I guess.”

“Are you jealous?” Sephiroth’s lips curl into a smirk; Cloud feels sick. 

“No! Neve—I mean…”

Cloud feels like he’s a child again, lost, unsure, and wanting to be noticed. His hands are clasped together, he stares upon them, not having the energy to keep his chin up. He hates this. He hates  _ himself.  _ He hates himself for a lot of things, especially for that night. He is filled with nothing but regret. 

Dirty. He is Dirty. 

Sephiroth leaves his room without so much as a goodbye. Cloud is left there, in the silence, in the dark. 

Shouldn’t he feel lucky? No, that would require love. He didn’t feel love. None of this feels like love. 


	5. and it felt like a kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cloud reminiscences the past

“Do you love me?” Sephiroth asked one night, caressing Cloud’s cheek, as tender as a lover would. Cloud’s work began to suffer, his performance subpar as his mind was lost in a fog, locked away in daydreams, his mind chanting one name: Sephiroth Sephiroth Sephiroth. Each night, he found himself in his room, it wasn’t always sexual, it was intimate in another way.

“Yes,” Cloud said. It was as simple as that, right? He  _ loved  _ Sephiroth. He was happy that Sephiroth loved him too. 

Right? 

That night, he fell asleep to his touch but woke up with Sephiroth gone. No goodbye. Just gone. And he shuddered, shivers running down his spine, producing goosebumps throughout his body. He sometimes craved his embrace, that much he hated to admit, it left him with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. 

Almost always bitter, never sweet.

* * *

A guard giggled, Sephiroth patted them on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze before walking away, leaving them without breaking stride. Cloud watched, he couldn’t help but wonder how Sephiroth truly acted with everyone else. 

_ I’m not the only one,  _ he thought. Sephiroth gave him small bits of affection in public, innocent touches with fingers brushing up his back, arm, or anywhere else on his body, subtle enough for only Cloud to notice.

But he still noticed when other guards would get the same treatment, and again, he hadn’t known how to feel about that. 

Maybe he  _ was  _ jealous. He knew one thing: he always focused on Sephiroth, and Zack noted this too. 

“You should focus more on your work, Cloud,” he’d tell him one day. “Don’t wanna fall behind the others—especially if you’re going to get Sephiroth to notice you.”

Cloud didn’t know if he should scowl or laugh.

“I don’t need his attention…” He said, absentmindedly, with arms crossed, rubbing them, avoiding eye contact.

“ _ What?  _ Am I hearing this correctly or are you actually admitting you don’t want to get noticed by your childhood hero?”

Cloud gulped.

“What I mean to say is that… I-I don’t know if… I should be focusing on all of that… I mean, I should go, I have guard duty tonight.” Cloud turned away, his voice cracked, it was impossible to hide how nervous he felt, his words stumbled upon one another; he couldn’t even look at Zack, he wouldn’t, he didn’t want to see the expression on his face. 

“Cloud?”

“I have to  _ go,  _ Zack.”

“Hey, hey, I’m not keeping you here, I understand, ok…?”

Cloud still refused to look at him. He rounded a corner, his steps gradually picking up speed, he failed to pay attention to where he was going. Before he could think, his body bumped against someone’s chest, it was sturdy enough to practically send him back, but the other didn’t budge. Stars danced in his vision, everything happened so fast that his thoughts had trouble catching up, a pair of firm hands steadied him, there was a breezy chuckle easy on the ears—a familiar one. 

“Careful."

“Sephiroth!” Zack chimed in, from behind Cloud. 

Quickly, he jolted back, standing firm, head down, he couldn’t bear to look at  _ anyone  _ in the eye, his face becoming hot, his words lost, Cloud could only manage to clear his throat and squeak out  _ ‘Sephiroth…’  _ from under his tongue. 

“You alright, Cloud?” He heard Zack’s voice say.

“Y-yeah…”

“Friend of yours?” Sephiroth asked. 

“Oh yeah! He’s a good friend of mine. Oh, right—” Zack’s arm circled around his shoulders. “He’s a big fan of yours, isn’t that right, Cloud?” 

_ Zack, don’t. _

“Is that so,  _ Cloud? _ ” There was a sharpness in Sephiroth’s voice when he said his name, it made his heart jump and his throat close up; Cloud said nothing.

“He’s nervous, that’s all.”

Sephiroth chuckled. 

“So he is. Be careful where you’re going next time, Cloud.” He spoke so casually it hid any irritation Cloud  _ thought  _ he heard, it was small but it was there, behind the laughter. It was certain malice. Cloud’s knees threatened to give out—this was a mistake, this was all a mistake. 

“Yes, sir…” He said, soft and timidly. “Sorry, sir.” 

Sephiroth left, leaving behind only Zack and Cloud, the two of them lost in the silence. It was unlike Zack to be so quiet but Cloud didn’t pay attention, he was too busy hiding his face, trying to maintain composure. Cloud knew Zack was watching him closely. He could tell Zack knew something was off. 

“You let him go, Cloud, that’s unlike you.” He spoke with a soothing sincerity in his tone, he didn’t want to actually make Cloud feel _ashamed,_ and Cloud was grateful, there was too much going on in his head, he wanted a break. “What’s up, Cloud? Feeling sick?” Cloud was so thankful to have Zack by his side.

He loved him.

Cloud cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I just… got the jitters.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

Still, the look Zack gave of him was that of concern but doubt as well. Cloud could tell there was something else Zack could read into his features, just as Cloud could read into his; he hated that, to be so vulnerable that he couldn’t hide away what his eyes showed. All he could do was look away but he knew that wasn’t enough. 

“Alright.” 

Cloud wanted to thank him but he didn't. He’s just happy that Zack didn’t press him on the issue. 

* * *

His fingers massage his own cheek; Cloud explores the streets of Sector 7 slums, peering all around him, bystanders, all he sees are bystanders, wandering about. Despite everything, he feels calm. He keeps his eyes peeled but there is nothing out of the ordinary, and he sighs. Tonight, he was out on a prowl but he hadn’t known where to begin so he explored, hoping that he’ll receive a visit from that man that haunts his dreams. For once. Memories bleed into his mind, his hand remains on his cheek, coming across a street where no one has been around, it’s quiet, quiet enough for his thoughts to become audible. 

“Where are you?” He says but found no response.

In the distance, off by the buildings, he thinks he sees a  _ speck  _ of black but it doesn’t move any closer.

“Why?” Is all he manages to say. 

He remembers his touch, how it made him feel, how wonderful it felt when he came to the realization that Sephiroth was his lover, how it confused him, how he hated himself for loving him so goddamn much.

Then flames, he remembers flames. They reached the sky, the heat heavy in the air, the smoke burned his lungs. He would never forget the silver hair that flowed like water, so elegant and graceful amidst the chaos as he walked away, disappearing behind the fire. This man took everything from him. 

“I want to know why you hurt me. Why you killed my mom. Why you… made me dirty.” 

Everything.

“You used me in  _ so  _ many ways, I want to know why!”

No response comes.

“You made me believe that you loved me.” His voice croaks, close to tears, he wouldn’t dare let anyone else see him like this. He cried all too many times when he was with Sephiroth. He hated crying. 

“I’m taking back what’s mine,” Cloud says, this time under his breath, to himself. “You can’t have me anymore.” 

Reunion. 

Cloud turns to his heel, ignoring the speck of black, immediately walking down the path; he was going to see Tifa, she deserves to know everything. 

* * *

“We can’t do this anymore!”

He blurted it out so suddenly, as he felt Sephiroth’s hands underneath his shirt, their faces close to one another; his taste was familiar now, even Cloud felt confident enough to move in closer to kiss him. 

He doesn’t now. 

The look on Sephiroth’s face actually seemed shocked,  _ offended,  _ but he regained himself a second after. 

“I don’t understand,” He said. “Don’t you love me?”

“I… I do but…”

Sephiroth’s glare was a knife against his skin, cutting through slowly and deeply, drawing his blood out, and Cloud knew Sephiroth loved every second of it. The pain burned him and he was left defenseless. He shrunk up, his mouth dry, he was unable to finish his sentence; he felt so useless. His chin was grabbed, his attention turned up to look at Sephiroth in the eye and every nerve in his body screamed. There was silence with only the sound of his heavy heartbeat thumping in his eardrums. His face went numb. 

“Sephiroth…?” 

The back of his hand stroked Cloud’s cheek softly, every so often his fingers massaged into it, and Cloud leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. He wanted to pretend this love wasn’t so angry and frustrated, he wanted to pretend this touch was as sweet and gentle as Sephiroth made it seem. This was his lover, after all. Shouldn’t all love feel sweet? 

“You disappoint me,” Sephiroth said, his breath brushing against Cloud’s lips. 

“H-huh?”

Suddenly, his head snapped back, yelping as his face seared in pain, the momentum threw him off balance, he hung up against the wall to steady himself. Cloud cupped the place on his cheek where Sephiroth struck him, tears blinded his vision. He couldn’t stop them from spilling, fear overtook him as he worried Sephiroth would witness him crying and punish him for it, but he couldn’t prevent the sniffles. This was all so fucked up. 

“You said you loved me. Clearly, you don’t.” His tone was like the steel of his blade—frigid and sharp, he could detect the anger behind it but Sephiroth still carried himself with ease, all while Cloud was a mess of himself, weeping, his hand still on his cheek. 

“Sephiroth, I’m  _ sorry,  _ it’s Zack, he’s suspicious, okay? We can’t be...” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—your words. I’m leaving.” Sephiroth turned his back to him, heading for the door, Cloud had already felt an ache in his heart. 

“Wait! I’m sorry, please… don’t go.” 

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks. 

“And what are you going to do about it?”

The tears wouldn’t stop spilling, Cloud rubbed them away over and over, in between his small sobs were gentle hiccups. A part of him wished he could go back to the beginning, to the start of their affair, where it felt  _ innocent  _ enough, even if it made him so ashamed he couldn’t even face Zack. 

Dirty...

Cloud reached up to touch him but his hand remained hovering in the air, he was unsure if he should actually grab Sephiroth, he didn’t want to receive another hit to the face. 

“I love you,” he finally said, Sephiroth finally turned to face him. 

“Then prove it.” 

Cloud stepped up, practically stumbling on his own boots, but he luckily didn't lose his footing; he was already embarrassed enough as it was. He kept his head bowed down. Sephiroth grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to lock eyes with him once more. It hurt. His hands slowly reached up to press against Sephiroth’s chest, he leaned up till they were pressing noses together, his lips meeting his. 

It was a small, innocent kiss turned violent as Sephiroth forced his tongue into his mouth, putting force into their kiss together; Cloud whimpered.

His love returned. 


	6. freedom tastes like shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bits & pieces of cloud's memories don't add up

Flames, there were so many flames. The smoke choked him up, he laid on the ground surrounded by the burning buildings, their rooftops lit, every core of his body aching, he could only reach out to the remains of his home as the walls caved in— _mom…_

He wanted to scream till his lungs gave out, he wanted to pierce the skin of his lover till he felt every pain he felt at that moment. 

_I thought you loved me._

Tifa, mom, everyone in this town, all gone, all in the hands of one mad man.

Sephiroth. 

His so-called lover. 

He wished he could die. 

Tifa and Zack were left on the ground, inside the reactor, wounded, barely conscious, but he ran past them, fueled by a blind rage. He ran into the Jenova chamber, his legs carried him the entire way, it felt like they had a mind of their own. Cloud didn’t think much of it, he didn’t think at all, he just _did._ He picked up the Buster Sword off the ground, he drove that blade into Sephiroth’s side, piercing his skin as he promised he would do; he hoped he felt every ounce of pain he had felt at that moment. 

“Mom… Tifa… My town… Give it back.” 

“C-Cloud?!”

It was foggy in his helmet, tears spilled inside it, hands shook, his knuckles turning white around the handle, he drove the blade in further; Sephiroth groaned. Oh to see him as pitiful as he felt months leading up to this incident. To taste the sweet justice of seeing Sephiroth wounded, but that was nothing compared to the anguish he felt upon losing everything he grew up with. This was truly a bittersweet feeling. 

“I had so much respect for you, I admired you… I _loved_ you.”

He couldn’t believe he actually loved him. Sephiroth slumped forward. 

Outside the chamber, with his helmet off, Cloud had knelt beside Tifa, helping her prop up against one of the pods, making sure she’s safe. He made a promise to her, after all, and his mind turned back to the journal he made years ago, to the unsent letters addressed to Tifa and snippets of the newspaper clippings of Sephiroth, and the tears came again, sliding down his cheeks in continuous streams. It was a joke, it was all a joke. He stared at his hands as his fingers slowly began to numb, they trembled slightly, he wanted to scold himself, he wanted to say _anything,_ but in his head was nothing but static. 

If this was freedom from Sephiroth then it tasted like complete shit. 

His body was locked in a numbed state, frozen in place till Sephiroth emerged again, holding the decapitated head of Jenova. “How dare you!” He hissed. 

“Cloud…” Zack called to him, voice straining. “Finish Sephiroth off…”

The rage bubbles up inside him once more, he aimed his sword up high, he charges toward him, jumping up into the air, swinging his blade down; Sephiroth managed to block it, Cloud used every bit of his strength and attempts to disarm him, only for Sephiroth to overpower him and be flung back into the Jenova chambers. His world spins as he falls onto the ground, the Buster Sword slipping from his grasp. 

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, staggering back inside. 

  
“I loved you...” And that disgusted him. 

Pain shot up his abdomen as Sephiroth stabbed him with the tip of his blade, raising him up from the ground. 

“Don’t. Test. Me.” There was no longer in humanity in Sephiroth’s tone, it was devoid of anything sweet like how he had spoken to him every night he visited his room. The mask was completely lifted—these were Sephiroth’s true colors. He never gave a damn about him. Yet somehow, deep down, Cloud always knew that. He stared right into his eyes, the madness and anger lit in Sephiroth’s eyes, Cloud couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ hide the repugnance in his face. He _will_ be set free. 

With every ounce of his strength, he grabbed the blade with both hands, pushing himself back down, lifting Sephiroth from the ground, his body dangling in the air. 

“It can’t be…!”

Almost with ease, he managed to toss him to the side, Sephiroth descended to the pools of mako below. Cloud’s wound screamed in pain, enough for him to fall down to his knees in exhaustion as he exited Jenova’s chamber. His breath was hollow, it heaved with every exhale.

_You can’t have me anymore._

“Cloud…” Zack’s hand reached out to him from below. “Cloud… you loved him?” 

Cloud had so much to tell him but his body swayed, tumbling down the stairs, passing out right onto the stairs. Zack followed suit. And that was the end. Cloud was free. Or so he thought. 

* * *

He never got to explain to Zack what happened. In fact, all of it was a blur, he couldn’t recall anything that happened between the confrontation of Sephiroth and the destruction of Nibelheim. At least, he _thinks_ he remembers. He remembers arriving at the town, he remembers Tifa, and Zack’s memory was in there somewhere as well—there is a flash in his mind, following an ache, he can see Sephiroth’s eyes, twisted with malice, within his mind… and then, just like that, he is back doing what he originally set out to do: looking for Tifa. 

“Tifa,” he begins, under his breath, rehearsing to himself what he wants to say to her before he actually arrives at her bar. “Tifa, there’s something I have to tell you... Tifa, there’s something I have to tell you...” He repeats it to himself, practically chanting it, speed walking down the path that leads back home; his head down as he is busy soaking in his thoughts. It’s late in the night, not a lot of people are out and about, save for a few here and there, as they retreat back indoors, making it easier to maneuver around without bumping into anyone.

A churning in his gut catches his attention. 

It doesn’t shock him anymore, he’s used to it at this point, after all, not long ago, he had been searching for _him_ to find some answers. Cloud was _hoping_ he’d run into him. He turns his body—he finds nothing though he was sure there was something there, he felt his presence behind him. A hand cups his face, pulling it back, Cloud doesn’t jump but his heartbeats pick up speed, he manages to keep his exterior the same. 

He comes face to face with Sephiroth, he grins in such a way it angers Cloud, it is devious, as if Cloud had fallen into his trap. No, he wants to be here, even as Sephiroth affectionately caresses his cheek, just like he did all those years ago, save for the hitting and tears. Their faces are in close proximity but Cloud doesn’t turn away. 

“You were looking for me?” He says.

“Fuck you.”

Sephiroth casually laughs, Cloud is brought back to his memories, at the start of their affair—during, when he could tell Sephiroth didn’t take him seriously. He doesn’t take him seriously now. He hates that laughter. 

“Oh Cloud, I thought you loved me. I was hoping we would get a chance to see each other again.”

“You’re here now.” 

“I mean to _really_ see each other.” 

Cloud raises a brow, lips part, but his words are pushed back into his mouth as Sephiroth mashes their lips together, Cloud’s response coming at a muffle. He bites down on Sephiroth’s lower lip, Sephiroth moans, Cloud could just vomit in his mouth. He tries to punch him, his hand forms into a fist, but halfway through it opens, and he only manages to pathetically _slap_ Sephiroth across the face. He still lets Cloud go, his head still snaps back. 

“I’m talking about Reunion.” 

“I _hate_ you!” Cloud hisses through gritted teeth, he feels every bit of fury at the back of his throat, it comes up his windpipe, he uses every bit of that power to spit in Sephiroth’s face, his saliva hitting him square between the eyes. That wipes the smirk off his face and is replaced with a scowl, the back of Sephiroth’s hand smacks Cloud across the face but before he can stagger back, Sephiroth grabs him by the throat. 

“You’re ungrateful.”

“ _You’re_ a piece of shit.” 

Sephiroth wipes at his brow, the grip around Cloud’s throat tightens, Cloud coughs, struggling to breathe. The anger in Sephiroth’s eyes glow bright but the edge of his lips curls into a menacing smile, he raises his Masamune up, pain strikes him in his shoulder where he is stabbed, Sephiroth twisting the blade, he croaks out a cry through a crushed windpipe, the pain burns him. For a moment, he thinks he wonders if he could actually die here but Sephiroth’s grip loosens, his blade slides out of Cloud’s shoulder, the wound bleeds profusely, Cloud covers it with his gloved hand. In his other hand, he unsheathes his sword. The handle of the blade is stained with his own blood as he grips it firmly, the blood continues to flow down his shoulders, squeezed in-between his fingers. 

“Find me in the North,” Sephiroth says.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” 

_I would rather be dead than be yours again._

Regardless of what he said, Cloud refuses to go down without a fight. He pushes forward, sword raised in the air, it strikes down clashing with the Masamune with a spark, Cloud trying to overpower it but Sephiroth manages to hold him off.

“Return back to me, return home.”

“You are not my home!” 

With a battle cry, he reels his sword back then swings again, and again, each time blades clash with one another, each hit blocked but they stagger Sephiroth slowly, little by little. Just as Cloud is about to reach the upper hand, he is suddenly thrown back, falling on his back, his sword lands barely out of his reach. His fingers inch toward it but he is met face to face with the tip of the Masamune. 

“ _Not yet.”_ Sephiroth’s boot presses against Cloud’s wound, he cries out in pain, in the back of his mind he thinks of how _funny_ it is, at how real this feeling seems to be; Sephiroth is real, even with every other evidence presented to him prior, he can truly say Sephiroth _is real_ and he’s here, to torment him. Cloud’s hand wraps around Sephiroth’s ankle in a tight lock, his shoulder throbs. 

“You’re going to have to kill me.” 

“I need you.” His response sends a chill down his spine, even now, as he feels _brave_ enough to deal with him. “We’ll meet again… I love you, Cloud.” Cloud chuckles, bitterly. 

“I know damn well you don’t give a _shit_ about me.” 

Sephiroth’s boot leaves his shoulder, he steps back, the Masamune moves away. 

“Cloud!” A woman’s voice cries out, Cloud can’t quite see who it is till she comes running, her long black hair flowing behind her as she dashes toward Sephiroth with a kick raised to his head, he dodges it, a barrage of bullets follows through, barely missing him by an inch. 

“Cloud, get up!” 

Cloud unsteadily climbs back onto his feet, immediately collecting his sword off the ground, cradling his wound once more. 

“Where did he go?!”

Tifa. It’s Tifa’s voice he heard, Barret followed right after.

“Shit! He disappeared!” 

Sephiroth is nowhere to be found, to the front, Tifa and Barret stand with their backs toward Cloud, both into a fighting stance. A black feather dances in the air, Tifa’s hand uncurls to catch it. “Did he… leave this behind?” 

“Yeah, that’s him,” Cloud says, sheathing his sword, he steps up, he doesn’t realize how out of breath he is till the adrenaline lowers; his wound aches. “He’s back.” 

“That couldn’t have been him, could it?! He really _is_ back… Cloud, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you,” Tifa says, breathlessly. 

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” 

He takes her hand in his grasp, her fingers still tightly wrapped around the feather, he wonders how she feels touching it, if it burned, but he only cups his other hand over hers. He holds it gently, letting their touch linger. After a long minute that stretches out, her attention is turned toward his injury. “Let me patch that up.” 

The pain is hard to ignore at this point, now that everything is calm. Still, Cloud hadn’t realized it, his wound was the last thing on his mind now that everything else has fallen on him. Cloud doesn’t let Tifa go, Tifa doesn’t move her hand away, but in her other, she fishes out a handkerchief. “Hold still, this should help till we find some bandages.” Tifa’s hand slips away from him, the feather drops, floating gingerly in the air, Cloud quickly catches it, it doesn’t disappear. The white fabric wrapped around his shoulder quickly turns crimson as it seeps through but it is enough to stop the bleeding, for now. 

“Thanks.”

“I’d do anything for you, Cloud.” 

There is a moment of silence, Barret approaches their side, muttering something about heading back to the bar, the feather is still in Cloud’s hand, he holds it with an iron grip. Somehow, he couldn’t shake away the feeling that Sephiroth purposely left this behind, like a terrible memento. It’s what he wants and he is getting what he wants: Cloud is keeping this feather as a reminder of what he must do next. He won’t let him getaway. 

* * *

“Tifa, I have something to tell you.” 

He sat on the stool, a first aid kit laid out on the bar, the scent of disinfectant fills his nose, and it almost makes him dizzy, as Tifa cleans off his wound—it stings, Cloud bites down but cannot contain his groan. Next, Tifa begins to stitch up his wound, working swiftly yet carefully; this definitely isn’t the first time she’s done this, working with Avalanche does that to a person, and according to Tifa, everyone knows how to stitch up a wound, even if small. 

“What is it?” She doesn’t look up from his shoulder.

“... I-it’s about Sephiroth.” 

Barret sits at the table closest to them, listening intently, Marlene had long gone to bed, which is fine with Barret, he didn’t want her to see the blood, and Cloud considers that perfect timing. 

“We’re listening,” Tifa pauses for a minute, looking back at Barret who nods.

“Yeah, we’re listening,” he says. 

Though his lips part, he struggles to find the words, he feels everything at once, his head buzzing with everything that he wants to say, too much at once trying to escape him, so he is left speechless. “I…” He wasn’t even sure Tifa and Barret could hear him, his voice is so quiet it felt like he only exhaled instead of speaking. He feels small again, like he did five years ago, back when he was with Sephiroth; he hates that he has to feel that way again. 

“Five years ago, we were friends… more than friends, I think? I’m not even sure what you’d call it, but we were… _something._ He made me feel…” It feels like he is swallowing glass. “Disgusting.” 

“He made you feel disgusting?” Tifa asks, she pauses midway through the stitching, she finally looks up to meet Cloud’s gaze, her brows knit together. “Why? What did he… do, exactly?” 

“I don’t want to say.” 

Tifa and Barret exchange looks, neither of them looks pleased, the air is heavy, Tifa pulls up the stool next to Cloud and sits down. 

“Oh, Cloud…”

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s _fine,_ I’m fine. It’s not that big of a deal, I handled it, didn’t I? But n—now he’s back and I feel all these… _things._ I feel disgusting again.” 

“Cloud, what he did isn’t right.” 

“Tifa, it’s not that big of a deal, I’m not some wounded animal, _please…_ ”

His head weighs a ton, he doesn’t have the energy to look up at either of them, he could feel their eyes upon him, and he didn’t want to face them, it felt like Zack all over again, but Zack didn’t know of this sin. He isn’t sure if that’s a blessing or not, maybe Zack can rest easily without having to know what happened to him. The pain in his shoulder feels better compared to the pain in his stomach. His fingers scrape against his thigh, he tries so hard to keep from tears falling but he can’t seem to. It’s been a while since he’s actually cried. 

“Cloud, are you okay?” Tifa moves to peer from under him, Cloud quickly turns his head, the tears flow down. Somehow, it makes it worse when she knows something is wrong, he couldn’t stop the waterworks from staining his cheeks. The back of his hand wipes his face, his eyes shut tight. His head is cushioned against Tifa’s stomach, her arms wrap around his head, her fingers comb through his hair, Cloud has to bite his lower lip to keep him from sobbing. 

_I’m not some wounded animal,_ he thinks. _Quit treating me like one._

Yet he couldn’t stop _feeling_ like one. 

“You’re not in this alone, Cloud, we’re here for you, remember that.” They sit still like that, for a moment, he keeps himself silent, his throat hurts too much. He feels like shit but Tifa’s embrace feels warm. A hand claps his uninjured shoulder, Cloud presumes it to be Barret. Their support means the world to him, especially now, but it hurts, it all hurts. 

“We can’t let him get away,” Cloud says, finally breaking the silence. 

“We won’t, we won’t let him get away.” 

“He burned down my home, he’s despicable,” Cloud pauses, there’s a flash in his mind, a crack, an ache, and he sees the flames again… he sees his own uniform… and Sephiroth’s eyes. “H—he…” Cloud frowns, he lifts his head from Tifa’s embrace, his eyes scanning the bar, lost in his own thoughts. “He took advantage of me, I remember… I remember when we trained together, we worked together—as SOLDIER. I went back to Nibelheim with him after we got word of all the monsters breaking out because of the reactor. I believed in him, we were allies, and he took that all away from me.” 

“SOLDIER? _You went back?_ I…” Tifa blinks, her mouth agape, she stands from her stool, she rubs her hands together. “Cloud, I, uh…” She clears her throat. “W—when…?”

“When did I go back? I told you—when I was in SOLDIER, Sephiroth became my friend—more than a friend. We went back to Nibelheim together, you were there. Tifa, don’t you remember?”

This wasn’t even what the discussion was about. Cloud couldn’t help but feel a little displeased by her reaction. This is a serious discussion on the dangers of Sephiroth, what he did to their home, and what he did to _him._ His head hurts a bit, the palm of his hand pushes against his face. 

“He’s dangerous, Tifa.”

“I—I know that. He destroyed our town. He took advantage of you.” She wraps his shoulder with a clean bandage now that the stitching was done, and after that, she places everything back in the first aid kit, the entire time she wouldn’t look at him. Cloud is… confused. “What he did isn’t right, it’s as you said: he’s a despicable man. And I’ll make him pay—I’ll make him pay for what he did, especially to you.” 

“Oh hell, I _knew_ nothing good came from Shinra!” Barret speaks up. “SOLDIER can kiss my ass. You’ll be alright, Cloud, he can’t touch you anymore.”

The throbbing in his head slowly fades, even if it lingers behind a bit. Zack’s cheerful face flashes in his mind. Cloud wished, he could only wish, that things were different for them both. That he could have that chance to talk to him again. To have him by his side as he told Tifa and Barret what happened to him. To confirm his suspicions. To… reminisce their days of working together in SOLDIER. 

Yes, that’s what he wants: to remember SOLDIER. He achieved his childhood dream. Tifa is now behind the bar, pouring herself a glass of water. She seems nonplussed. 

“What are we gonna do now? Sephiroth’s out there somewhere and we gotta find him,” says Barret. 

“He says he’s waiting north… whatever that means.” 

“North of Midgar?”

“Who knows…” 

“Cloud, you don’t have to do this,” Tifa tells him, sliding him his own glass of water, he takes a slow sip. “We know how tough it is for you, he won’t even stop _tormenting_ you. Are you sure you want to go after him?” 

“It’s _me_ he wants—shit, I can’t even ask you guys to do this with me, you have the rest of Shinra to worry about. Aren’t you supposed to get ready to plant the bomb in the next reactor?” 

“You made a promise to me, remember?” Tifa’s face brightens, for the first time tonight, she smiles. “That means you’re coming with us in this next mission. Then, we’ll go looking for Sephiroth.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that…”

“Did you hear what she said? You’re gonna have to work harder than that to get rid of us.” Barret chortles, and for a second, Cloud could feel himself smile as well. It takes him a while to realize this and the euphoria seeps into him, thawing the chills he felt up to that point. He didn’t argue with them any further, he actually feels _happy._ He wants to get lost in it.

“Then, I guess I have to get ready then. Where’s my sword?” Cloud lifts himself up from his seat. 

“Whoa there, careful, your arm’s still gotta heal up.” 

“Your mission is tomorrow, isn’t it? Can’t wait forever.”

Tifa laughs, shaking her head. “You don’t want to pull the stitches. I change my mind, nevermind the mission, you should sit this one out, it’s alright.” 

“I’ll be _fine._ Besides, I have you with me.” 

“Well, I guess I _do_ have healing materia just in case,” Tifa smiles again, brighter than before. “I’m glad to have you by my side, Cloud. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“No,” he says, heading right for the door. “It’s you who’s there for me—both of you. Thank you.” 

They approach him, side by side, each placing a hand on each shoulder ( Tifa careful with the stitches. ) Their presence makes him feel safe. Tifa still smiles, this time it looked a little disheartened, he couldn’t tell why. It has to be Sephiroth, maybe it’s something else. Cloud wants to ask her why that is, he almost does, but he is ushered out the door. 

“C’mon, we gotta rest up, we have a big day tomorrow!” Barret beams. 

“I’ll be right next door, Cloud, just in case you need me,” says Tifa.

“Yeah…” 

He knows that. And he’s happy. 

* * *

The memory of Zack flashes in his mind again, as he is laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he has yet to surrender to sleep, his mind is too busy. He wonders if it’s nervous jitters for the Avalanche mission in the morning, but none of that seems right, he knows he can’t stop thinking about _him._

“Do you really think you were in SOLDIER?” He hears, at the end of his bed, Cloud wonders if he’s really there or if he’s just going crazy with the lack of sleep he’s getting. Maybe he’s actually dreaming. 

“I’ll deal with you later,” Cloud mutters.

“You’ll see the truth… when you head North.” 

Zack is still in his mind, he closes his eyes, he can see him beaming. Then, he can see blood on his gloves, the Buster Sword… _his_ sword… Cloud’s sword. These scenes played in his mind like a broken puzzle.

“Zack and I worked alongside each other, I remember him. I was SOLDIER. I was in the first class. And you took advantage of me.”

Sephiroth says nothing and Cloud couldn’t see him anymore, as he leans on his elbows to get a better look—he’s gone.

The story so far: Cloud left, Cloud became SOLDIER, Cloud met Zack, Cloud met Sephiroth, he fell in love with him, he became his lover, then Sephiroth burned down Nibelheim. That is what he remembers. 

But something didn’t sit well in his stomach, how none of that adds up, how pieces of his mind seem scattered around. The only proper thing he can remember is Sephiroth. It’s always Sephiroth. But he’ll make him pay for stealing his mother, his town, and his innocence. Cloud makes that promise to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i'm approaching the end of this fic, it wasn't meant to be a long fic but if it does end, i will make a series out of it. thank you for the support!


	7. tell me everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it hurts to keep it all bottled up

“Women must be hounding you day and night.” His mother washed the dishes within the kitchen, he lied on his bed, staring up at the ceiling; there was a funny feeling in his stomach. 

“Not really…” But he wants to tell her everything.

“You know there’s a lot of temptations in the big city. I’d feel a lot better if you found a good girl—one who’d make sure you didn’t get into any trouble.”

“I can take care of myself.” He already had someone. Someone better, at least that’s what he told himself when Sephiroth caused him pain. He was confused. He really wanted to tell her. 

“An older, more mature girl that could keep you on the straight and narrow—and tell you when you’re being a silly goose.” 

Sometimes, all he ever wanted, was to hold his lover’s hand, to have a day where it didn’t taste like bile, where there weren’t any bruises on his face, and guilt hanging over him like a dark cloud. All he wanted was love. Pure love. 

“That’s the perfect type for you, I’d say.” 

Cloud turned on his side and closed his eyes; he could see Sephiroth’s face, his cold eyes, as clear as daylight. Since their arrival back to Nibelheim, Sephiroth avoided him, just when Cloud needed him the most. He had to hide his face, he had to hide away from Tifa. Zack was too busy, so was he. There was nobody. He felt so alone. 

His mom was there. He could tell her  _ everything  _ but his mouth was dry. Maybe he did need a girl, someone who  _ will _ hold his hand, who wouldn’t hurt him, who would pay attention to him when he needed it the most. One he didn’t have to hide his face for. One he didn’t have to fear. 

Cloud grew tired of everything, there was a pain in his heart. He was so, so tired. 

* * *

“Cloud!”

There’s a jolt in his body as he is knocked back from his daze, he blinks, the sunlight rains down on him, and for a moment, Cloud could forget that the land Midgar was built on was dry and lifeless. Not here though, there were  _ flowers  _ all over the place, the soil is fertile enough to actually let them bloom without any issue. 

Just like they had been in the church, where he had met  _ her.  _

The most notable thing about her is her pink dress, shining bright in a sea of rust, it stood out to him as did the flowers in her church and at her house. There’s a basket in his arm, paused midway into picking a yellow flower when she calls out to him. 

Aerith. That’s her name. 

“You’re spacing out.” 

“Sorry, I, uh…” He plucks the flower, placing it neatly in his basket, there’s a muffle in his head that clears away as he slowly focuses on the task at hand again; he is silent as he resumes flower picking. 

“You look like you have something on your mind,” Aerith says, behind him, picking the white flowers on the other side. “You wanna share with me what you’re thinking about?” 

“I’m  _ not  _ thinking about anything.” Though the truth is that his mind was absolutely  _ everywhere,  _ especially then. All of it is difficult to grasp in his hands, they slipped between his fingers, evaporating in the air till he was left staring at his palm. “It’s nothing you’d want to hear anyway.”

“That’s not true!” Aerith said, with a giggle. “I’m interested in everything you have to say. You’re an interesting guy, Cloud!” 

Though she’s bubbly that day, it didn’t match what he feels on the inside. It’s been a day or two since he last saw Sephiroth. Since a lot of things started to become a blur to him, leaving him in a daze. They buzz around his head like flies. He also found himself wondering how Tifa and Barret were doing, how each of them was holding up since Cloud descended from the exploding reactor, right below to the Sector 5 church. It feels kind of lonely, to have gained their support only for it to be ripped right out of his hands again by Shinra. 

It really sucked. 

But since then, Cloud kept his mouth tight shut, not wanting to open those stitches all over again. It burns his throat when he kneels there, words wanting to spill out, as he spoke to Aerith. 

_ Keep it together, you’ll be home again—soon enough. _

But he does like Aerith, so much so that he wonders if she’d ever judge him for what happened to him… When he fell below, he found himself struggling in the church flower bed, with the light shining in his eyes. A voice, much like his own, spoke to him. _ “Hey buddy, you okay?” _

“Yeah…”

_ “Made it through with just a couple of scraped knees back then…” _   
  
“Back then?” 

There was a pause.

_ “You still thinkin’ about him?” _

“D—do you mean…?” 

The voice carried on. 

_ “Whaddya say? We doing this?” _

“Have we…?” 

There was a pain in his chest, one that made it difficult to breathe, the voice was familiar, a little too familiar, and it scared him. Who was in his mind and how much could they see? No, no. Stop this. He was dirty, so, so fucking dirty. He wanted no one to see into his mind, where they can witness every sin he’s ever done. 

Damn you, Sephiroth. 

_ “Nevermind about that. Right now you need to focus on yourself.” _

How?

_ “Move something, anything.”  _

Cloud shifted. 

“Yeah, yeah…”

_ Who are you and just how much can you see about me?!  _ Cloud wanted to scream those words at the top of his lungs, but what he did manage to say came out in small stutters. Fear made every nerve in his body scream, he was so powerless against it. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get away, there was nothing but him and this blinding light. Maybe he was finally dead. Had he been set free? 

_ Fuck you, Sephiroth.  _

Cloud was gone, Sephiroth was still out there, and maybe that was for the best. At least, that’s what he thought then. 

“Hello…?”

And when he came to, he found himself face to face with Aerith. Cloud had wondered if the voice he heard was her but it was different, and this voice, they knew about Sephiroth. He assumes, at least. There is part of him that wonders if it was Sephiroth who came to him but it didn’t feel like such, this voice felt like an old friend. But just who was that? 

“Cloud!” And just like that, Aerith calls to him again, a hand on her hip, a basket full of flowers in her other arm; she pouted rather innocently, that quickly transformed into a bright smile. “There you go again, losing yourself.”

He always feels lost.

“Sorry…”

* * *

The night that followed, he tried to sneak out, just as Aerith’s mother told him to do so, Aerith found him anyway, outside, waiting for him, so Cloud had no choice but to let her accompany him. He didn’t actually mind. Though part of him did prefer she stay home, it’s always so dangerous when it comes to him.

Maybe she didn’t have to face  _ him,  _ the man that haunts him.

Still, they trudged through the slums of Sector 6, in what almost felt like an adventure ( probably more to her than him, ) they fended off thieves and fiends, Cloud worried more for her than he did for himself. Aerith can hold herself in a fight though, he quickly came to realize that. 

It’s nice, even he had to admit that. He could lose himself in the moment and forget about Sephiroth, even if temporarily. God, it feels so nice to forget about him. 

_ Please, let this night be better, no more nightmares. _

They reach a little park right outside Sector 7. “C’mon!” Aerith props herself on a slide shaped like a teddy bear. Much to his chagrin, with a sigh, he follows. “You know, a long time ago, I used to sell flowers here.” 

It’s actually more nice than realized, even if he didn’t want to admit it, to spend some time with her felt like a breeze in the wind. He could at least appreciate that. He sits right next to her, as she plops herself down, scooting herself closer. “So Cloud,” she says. “You were SOLDIER: first class, right?”

“Yeah…”   
  
“Weird.”

“What’s weird about it?” 

“Nothing, just that… you were the same rank.” 

“Huh? As who?”

“The first guy I ever loved…”

Heat flares up in his face, he tries not to show it, he shifts himself in his sitting position. “What’s his name? I probably know him.” He could sense her reluctance, as she looks away, her hands squeezing the fabric of her dress. But she speaks, and when she does, he can feel his breath stolen away. 

“ _ Za— _

There’s a piercing ring in his ear, he could feel his chest caving in, he finds it difficult to breathe. Did he hear that correctly? Could he be imagining things? No, it couldn’t be… it couldn’t be who he thinks it is. Then it started to hurt, tears wanted well in his eyes. 

_ My friend?  _

Cloud has to bottle the urge to spill everything to her, to open that can of worms and overflow her with everything that happened to him five years ago _ — _ Sephiroth Sephiroth Sephiroth. Like it happened five years ago, his mind chants this name all over again. Aerith didn’t know him but already she has done so much for him. He  _ wants to tell her everything,  _ to release all his pain. Maybe she’d let him lay his head on her lap, play with his hair, tell him everything will be okay…

Sephiroth can’t hurt him anymore.

He opens his mouth, his throat hurts, he’s ready to let it all go, he didn’t even think, till the gates of Sector 7 open, and out comes a carriage led by a chocobo. 

* * *

Cloud draped over Zack’s shoulders, slumped against his back, arms dangling as he piggyback rode him across the green fields. Zack soaked up mako like a sponge, and like a sponge, he was able to squeeze it right back out with no issue. Cloud, on the other hand, had drowned in it, inhaled too much all at once, now what remains of him is motionless, pale, and fragile. 

“There’s this girl I like,” Zack said, filling in the silence, mostly as a distraction for himself. “You’ll like to meet her. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you... Do you like that girl? Tifa? She was lookin’ all over for you, man. I wonder where she is now… Tell you what, once we get to Midgar, we’re going to find Aerith. Then, we’ll set out and find Tifa—deal?” 

Cloud didn’t move or make a sound. 

“That’s the spirit!” Zack laughed at his own joke; he felt it would continue to ease things smoothly. Midgar was quite a ways away, they had all the time in the world to get there, and Zack intended on making the best of it, to what he could. 

He managed to find a meadow, one he would eventually have to cross over, and found a spot in the grass to lower himself down, Cloud is plopped on the ground, he immediately slumps forward. Zack sits in front of him, plucking a dandelion, twirling it in his grasp. They’ll be coming up Midgar soon, the vegetation will cease, replaced with dead plain. He wanted to take in as much of it as he possibly could. He tucked the dandelion behind Cloud’s ear, the yellow of the herb glows brightly against his blond hair. 

“You’ll see, I have a plan—but first, we gotta catch a ride...” 

Zack makes out a small squeak coming from Cloud, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t do anything. 

“How are we going to do that, you might ask? Well, I’ll wave someone down, hitch a ride, but first… we should look for a place that has food. I’m  _ starved _ .” Zack laughed, sighing. The sunlight felt wonderful upon his skin and he was happy that Cloud had the opportunity to share that. Especially having spent all those years in tanks. Zack held his spirits high with an iron strength, even if it threatened to give out at any moment. He had to. For Cloud’s sake. Even if he couldn’t speak. “You must be hungry too.”

Cloud croaked so gently that Zack could barely make it out. “I…” 

“Hm?” Zack inched closer, tilting his head so that his ear hovered above him. 

“Se...phi...roth… I…”

Zack’s brows knitted together, arms crossed, there was a funny feeling in his gut. He crawled behind Cloud, leaning himself against his back, staring into the open, blue sky; it was clear that day, brilliant too, the weather eased the aches in his spirit. But he wasn’t so sure he could say the same for Cloud. 

“How do you feel, Cloud?”

He said nothing. 

“You talk about him a lot, in your sleep, I know he… he did a really horrible thing but…” Something wouldn’t stop bothering him. But did it feel appropriate to bring it up? Back at Nibelheim, as he struggled on the steps, he heard the muffled screams from within Jenova’s chamber. 

_ “I loved you!” _

Now, love can mean many things, love can mean the admiration he once felt for a man who destroyed everything, love can mean the pain of watching an old friend snuff out the lives of his family, or it can mean something else. Something he hoped was innocent. Cloud had a complicated relationship with the man he called his hero, at least, that’s how it was in Zack’s eyes. Every time Sephiroth around, Cloud seemed flustered, almost bothered, he thought about asking him about it, but never really had the opportunity, not since the first time he brought it up. 

On their trip to Nibelheim, he noted Cloud and Sephiroth exchanging looks every so often, Cloud seemed nervous, Sephiroth’s face was unreadable. It frustrated Zack but he didn’t understand it. And here, he thought he understood everything, especially Cloud. 

“Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?” 

Again, Cloud said nothing. 

“If anything were to happen to you, I… I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” 

“I—I… love you…”

Zack sharply sucked in the air, holding it in his lungs for a good long minute, closing his eyes, he could escape in the distant chirps of the birds, lose himself in all the scenery. It was perfect, it was all perfect, and he was happy he was there with him. With Cloud. They escaped, they escaped and it felt wonderful. But that is quickly replaced by the dawning realization that they still had to invade Shinra. And Cloud? He was still sick. And everything else was still lost in the mystery. 

“I know that’s not for me,” Zack said. “But I’ll pretend. I’ll pretend it’s for me.” He grasped Cloud’s hand tightly, shielding it within his own, he gave it a firm squeeze, he leaned the back of his head against his. “I love you, Cloud.”

“Z—Zack…”

He held his breath as the sound of his name reached his ears, his heart ached, though Zack didn’t want to admit it, he wanted to keep up a strong front, especially for Cloud, even if he couldn’t quite see it. Because he wasn’t all there anymore. Zack found it heavy upon his shoulders but he carried it, oh how he carried it. 

The day was beautiful and it was such a shame Cloud couldn’t fully embrace it. 

But one day, he’ll be back, Zack wouldn’t rest till he made sure Cloud made it through. And one day, Cloud could tell him anything, without any fear of judgment. 

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter or the one after that will be the **final** one.  
>   
> the end of this chapter was inspired by [a cute zack & cloud comic](https://twitter.com/artofchira/status/1252285454684045312?s=21), where zack carries cloud through as they make it through gaia.


	8. good night, until tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it all ends here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is divergence to the last half of the game, as i was too lazy to look up the rest of the scenes lol. i hope that won't destroy the enjoyment of the fanfic!

“Cloud, what’s that?” 

Debris is scattered about, dust hovering in the air, when he breathes it in, it tickles his lungs, the whole atmosphere burns his body. The remains of Sector 7 lie beneath their feet. Their apartment building has been reduced to nothing but rubble, despite that Cloud manages to dig up what is truly important to him. The cover loosely hangs off the spine, the pages inside worn & brittle, the ink fading, but he could make out the name at the top of each page— _ Dear Tifa.  _ He never did send those letters, did he?

“Cloud?” Tifa calls behind him, but he doesn’t budge nor does he answer back, he flips through the journal, the newspaper clippings have also been worn, the edges cracked, he resisted the urge to tear out the pages and crumble them up. There’s just that part of him that stops him from destroying the journal all entirely, even if all that it brings is pure dread. He couldn’t quite explain that feeling. Almost as if he’s missing something, something he can’t destroy just yet. 

Cloud wants to tell her that it’s nothing, he almost does, but he turns back to face her, journal in hand, and hands it to her. Gingerly, she takes the book, starts flipping through the pages carefully, as if she’s afraid it’ll fall apart at any moment. Her eyes scan the pages, occasionally tracing each word with her index finger. When she’s done, she sighs, closing her eyes to hide away the ruby hues. When she looks back at him, they are glossy. 

“These are dated five years back, how long have you had these?” 

“For most of my time in SOLDIER, I think, it’s been a while… I don’t like to look back on it.”

“You…” Tifa chews on her bottom lip. “Since SOLDIER, you say?”

“Yeah.”

Tifa lowers her head, the journal shuts close, she inhales deeply, exhaling slowly, it almost feels as if she is afraid to look him in the eye, he’s about to ask her what is wrong before she looks back at him. “Can I keep this?”

“They’re your letters—you’re more than free to.”

“It’s been a while but… I know you wouldn’t want to look at these letters anymore—they’re all about Sephiroth.” Her brows knit, her hand wraps the spine of the book tightly. “I don’t fault you for it.”

“It honestly makes me feel like shit,” Cloud says. “I used to respect him so much.”

“I know but I won’t let him hurt you ever again.” 

There is so much relief in his heart, it feels like breathing in fresh air, even if it is filled with ash. He wonders how much of that show on his face, he isn’t afraid to be vulnerable then. 

“Why don’t I get you another journal?” Tifa said, tucking the book under her arm. “That way you can continue writing letters to yourself.”

“I… don’t know.”

“It can’t hurt.” 

Cloud didn’t write anymore, it feels almost useless to him, but there were many words locked away within him. Words he forced down his throat. “I’ll think about it.” 

* * *

They kept Jenova within Shinra’s headquarters, Cloud was hardly surprised, but what  _ did  _ surprise him was who was waiting for him there. Jenova waited in a tank beyond them, Sephiroth in front, facing them.

He reacted too quickly, instantly charging toward Sephiroth, screaming, till his throat ached, only to descend to the bottom of the lab as Sephiroth slashed the bridge in half. He was met with the ground and the remains of the bridge, his entire body vibrating, running through him like a tuning rod. As he opens his eyes, his vision blurs, swimming, curtains of silver hair hang down to frame each side of his face, Cloud holds his breath, petrified to move even a centimeter, yet he still keeps his nerves steady even as they transform into ice. Sephiroth’s smile was sickening, his eyes more inhuman than he’s ever witnessed, even when they were together. Sephiroth, then, was just distant. Sephiroth, now, is sinister, drunk with insanity and power. And he uses every bit of that to taunt Cloud. 

“How long has it been?” Sephiroth asks.

Normally, Cloud wouldn’t even entertain him, with his close proximity, he’d take that opportunity to strike again, this time not even missing his mark. He is so, so close but Cloud can’t move. “Since we last saw each other?”

“The real me,” Sephiroth says. 

Cloud faces away, half-lost in thought, half-avoiding Sephiroth’s leer, his hands are on each side of the ground, his body hovering over him—he’s trapped. Yet Cloud doesn’t try to getaway. Maybe he is a fool playing right into a trap, to surrender himself to be devoured. But no, Cloud won’t go down without a fight. With that, he faces Sephiroth once more, a burning determination lights his own eyes. He  _ won’t  _ let him win. 

Cloud shoves him off, Sephiroth jumps, body flipping in the air, as easy as if he were to fly. Cloud stands, readying his sword but as he does, Sephiroth ambles away, climbing under rubble, leaving a feather behind.

“Sephiroth!” 

Cloud clumsily rushes after him, his own two feet catching to one another, causing him to stumble on the floor, but he swiftly recovers, sliding under the rubble to find nothing on the other side. At first, it takes him a while to realize he is too late, his heart thumping rapidly against his chest, then the rage seeps through every pore of his body, a cry escaping his lips, every energy is knocked out of him like the wind in his lungs, he kneels down, his cry reduces to a whimper. 

“Cloud…?” Red’s paws enter his view, Cloud raises his head, Red XIII looks upon him with worry in his face. “Who were you talking to?” His head turns back to the feather that fell, like Sephiroth, that had also disappeared. Thankfully, he didn’t need to prove anything to Red—he saw him too, didn’t he? Cloud shakes his head. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Let’s get going.”

He doesn’t see Sephiroth again till they follow the sanguine stained floors, glistening under the lab’s lights, emanating a purple glow. The Masamune stabs the president, the blade soaked in his blood, he drops to the floor as a pool overflowed beneath him. The Whispers saved Barret but that didn’t stop the gut-wrenching drop of his stomach as he saw  _ him, _ the sound sucked away like a vacuum, a ringing piercing his ears, time slowed, and Cloud was stuck with his head floating into space. Sephiroth. Who almost killed his friend. Sephiroth. Who could end up killing him—more importantly, everyone around him. 

He didn’t fully realize the gravity of the situation until he saw blood that wasn’t his own. How much more is this man going to  _ fuck  _ with him? He tastes iron as he runs out, searching for the man in black, his body screams, and he wants to scream along with it. Descending from the rooftop was Sephiroth but he quickly flashes away, altering into another man dressed in a dark cloak. 

_ Reunion,  _ his mind whispers. 

And he is gone. The ringing in his ears returns. 

“You believe me, don’t you?” Cloud asks as Barret and the others make their way outside. Cloud looks upon his own gloved hand, he balls it up into a fist.

“Of course, we believe you,” Barret says, coming right up behind him. “Why wouldn’t we? We all saw the same guy.” 

“He’s fucking with me…” Cloud is exhausted, his breath is hollow, he wants to vomit, but he holds himself, mostly for the sake of his friends, but also because he needs to believe he is strong enough. 

“We know that… Hey, Cloud, are you going to be alright?” 

As Cloud uncurls his hand, he feels his fingertips vibrating with anticipation. “You saw what he did, didn’t you? He almost killed you. He’s real. He’s so close and he’s real. Listen, everyone, I’m going to get him, it’s up to me—

“It’s up to  _ us,” _ Tifa corrects him. “It’s up to us to put a stop to him.” 

Cloud feels that same relief back at the bar when his friends told him they had his back, but his blood still boils, he has half a mind to shout, but he knows how Tifa would react: stern yet afraid. His desire to kill shakes him to the core, but he’s already scared Tifa once. He couldn’t let himself lose his cool yet he dangles himself over the edge, his head feels lightheaded. There is a clap on his shoulder that brings his attention back, Barret points to the sky, a helicopter flies arrives—AVALANCHE.

“And we won’t do this alone, there’s our ticket out of here!” 

As the helicopter slows to a halt, they hover above the group, ready to descend, but it explodes in bright light, as a missile hits them. The helicopter crashes below, going up in flames. Beyond them, another helicopter flies in—a Shinra helicopter. 

“I’ll take care of this,” Cloud says, though Tifa seems reluctant to leave him alone. To him, there were no worries, it wouldn’t take long. And Sephiroth would have to wait. 

* * *

As the night begins to clear away, they ride down the highway, further away from the headquarters as it shrinks in the distance, despite that, it was still the biggest thing in the entire city, and they could still make it out perfectly, brilliant and corrupt. They exited their vehicles, they have managed to finally get away from Shinra, and now, they stand before their greatest enemy— _ his  _ greatest enemy. 

To challenge Sephiroth is to challenge fate, as Aerith put it. And Cloud is ready to fight. To protect the ones he loved. To take back what is rightfully his. To put an end to the man he once called his lover. That man is no longer the same human that he brushed lips with, but he was never a good person, to begin with. Sephiroth’s mask was intoxicating, it left him with budding goosebumps that still formed to this day. All he wanted was his idol to notice him, to be his  _ boyfriend.  _ What a joke. What an idiot he had been. 

“And you, you’re wrong…” Aerith says, to Sephiroth, Cloud admired her bravery, and he stood tall trying to muster up his own. Though there is a tightening in his chest, wrath boiling from within, there is bile in his throat, venomous enough he can spit it all back in Sephiroth’s face again. He manages to hang back as Sephiroth disappears in the veil of darkness. With a wave of her hand, Aerith brings upon a light that overpowers that darkness. The road to defying destiny. 

In his pocket, the black feather practically burned a hole in his pocket, he hasn’t forgotten it, he refuses to let it go, he needs that reminder, he clings to it as if he were clinging to his last breath. He’ll approach the crossroads to destiny & he’ll  _ kill  _ Sephiroth, once and for all. 

* * *

“I want what’s mine.”

They were in a void, a spray of stars filled their universe, the pitch-black surrounding them, besides the light of said stars.The group had fought against Whispers, entities, and fate itself, they paved the path toward a new tomorrow. Sephiroth taunted the group, at first, fighting them each, every single one of them having difficulty in dealing with him, but they managed. They are separated now, Cloud stood in front of him. Finally, he got what he wanted—a chance to face Sephiroth on his own. A chance to kill him, this time for good. But oh, how he hopes that this time Sephiroth will stay dead. 

“And what is yours again?” Sephiroth sounds so condescending it makes Cloud sick, the bile in his throat comes up again, and it pisses him off. He wants to snuff everything Sephiroth once loved out of existence but knows there’s a good chance there’s nothing that he loves left. Not even himself. It hurts. It actually hurts. 

“I… I was just a kid, I didn’t know what I was doing, and  _ you,  _ you just took that from me, you took everything from me and now I’m the one who’s suffering while you’re here—and you’re  _ fine.  _ You’re fine and I hate you.” 

A burst of dark laughter emits Sephiroth, his smile wide, flashing the white of his teeth. “I’m not the man I used to be.”

“You were never anyone, to begin with, you were cruel and deplorable, and I’m going to end this!” 

They are caught in another dance of swords clashing, Cloud in the air, Sephiroth dodging, Cloud backflipping to avoid a hit, but never enough to actually land a hit on one another. Sweat collects on his brow, his teeth grit as Cloud pushes himself with every inch, hoping to get closer to him each time. The blade of his sword slices Sephiroth’s arm, the fabric of his clothes tear, but there is no blood, barely a cut. But how could that be? Cloud’s sure he got him. But there is nothing. 

“You’re not here…” Cloud says, at a loss of breath. “You’re not actually here.” 

Sephiroth smiles again. “Now’s not the time.”

“Shut up.”

“Find me in the North.”

“I said,  _ shut up! _ ” He plunges forward but automatically meets with the ground, he coughs as his body recoils, his fingers scrape the asphalt, there is silence surrounding him except for the distant chirps of birds. Beside him, had been the motorcycle he had stolen, a little off in the distance, the sunrise had begun peeking through. The road ends there, he is no longer in the land of fate, flashes of Sephiroth were in his mind. He saw him several times, the two of them caught in a fight, a premonition of what he just witnessed. 

Right?

His lungs soak up air, he closes his eyes, letting the breeze run through his hair. Despite all the chaos of that night, he feels different. Not exactly sure how. But he doesn’t feel like the same person that once started out as the mercenary for hire. Who is he anymore? A question he’s sure he’ll end up asking more and more, but unsure whether he’ll receive an answer or not. 

“North…” He mutters, and it’s clear to him then. “You won’t let this up, will you? I have to continue  _ north.” _ So north he shall go. Sephiroth wouldn’t have it any other way, and Cloud? He’ll do as he says. And finally, get back what is rightfully his. Himself. 

“Cloud!” Aerith’s voice chirps up from behind him, he whirls around, greeted by the faces of his friends. “Where were you?”

“I… I was right here, I…” 

Did he dream all of that up? No, he couldn’t have. It all felt so real. Cloud shakes his head—he doesn’t have time to worry about it now that his friends are here, to wave away any demons that were left behind. 

* * *

How does one begin a letter?

Dear Tifa, Dear Cloud, Dear Anyone-Willing-to-Listen… He stares at the blank pages of a leather notebook he found. Emits the rubble of Sector 7, he found something else besides his old journal, he found a new one, surprisingly in perfectly good condition. But the words are lost to him, his grip on the pen is tight, almost enough to turn his knuckles white. Tifa told him to continue writing—letters to himself.

_ Dear Cloud, _

_ I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you when you needed it the most, I’m sorry I was so weak to even try. But you’ll do better now. You’re not alone anymore. _

There was every ounce of determination in his body, the promises he made to himself, and those that his friends made of him, they gave him the strength to stand on his own two legs and carry himself the entire way—no, they helped carry him, with an arm over their shoulders, they wouldn’t let him trudge alone. His body aches from the lack of sleep but soon, they’ll be at Kalm, as they’re on the road, away from the steel skies of Midgar. 

“Whatcha got there, Cloud?” Aerith approaches him, Cloud sitting on a spot on the ground, on top of a rock, he carefully closes the journal shut as he stands up, dusting off his navy blue pants, now faded with the dust he collected on their entire journey there. She watches him closely, curiously, green eyes twinkling, almost with an innocence. 

Aerith was ripped away from them before he even could even begin to tell her every single little thing he wanted to tell her. It is a therapy for him, at this point, and all he wants to do is for everyone to hear every ounce of pain he held inside himself, that he forcefully choked down because he worried no one would listen. He wants to tell her, tell Red, tell Tifa and Barret all over again. He smiles. 

The journal is small, small enough he can tuck it away safely within the rest of his things. He offers a hand to Aerith, her eyes widen for a quick second, taken aback by the small gesture, but immediately smiles, taking his hand into her grasp; Cloud is happy. “How about I tell you all about it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to thank everyone who has given this fic support & my readers who gave it a chance. i might write a sequel fic, one that'll probably take place of a heavily divergent OG ff7, as i'm not sure when part 2 of the remake will be out at the time of me writing this. we'll see though. i'll be taking a break from writing this!
> 
> thank you again. n_n


End file.
